Enough to Make A Grown Man Cry
by moviemom44
Summary: One-shot in which Woody and Jordan consummate their relationship following the "Crash" series finale. Rated T for nudity, but no explicit shenanigans. Reviews greatly appreciated.


Enough to Make a Grown Man Cry

by

Moviemom44

He couldn't stop kissing her. Not that he was trying to stop. He didn't want to stop, not ever, not in a million years. The entire universe had been reduced to the caress of her soft, warm lips on his. She tasted like peppermint and vanilla.

She had never felt anything like this before. She was dizzy from the sheer strength of his embrace. No one had ever kissed her the way he did, with such passionate tenderness. Every exploration of his tongue, every foray of his hands demonstrated not only how much he wanted her, but also how much he wanted to give her. Overwhelmed, she couldn't stop herself from crying.

As he held her, he felt her start to tremble and he moved away just enough that he could see her face.

"Jordan? What's wrong?" Woody asked, lifting her chin so that she had to look him in the eyes.

"Nothing. That's what's so scary. For the first time in my life, nothing is wrong. I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do," she said, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "Maybe it's the exhaustion, but I can't remember the last time I was this happy. It just feels a little foreign to me, that's all."

He had been afraid of this ever since the helicopters arrived to rescue them from where they'd crashed on the D-Mort plane in the White Mountains. Before the rescue team arrived she had told him that she loved him and he knew she meant it. Rather than say it back to her, he had kissed her and she knew he meant it.

But when they got back to Boston, whatever breakthrough they had in the frozen wilderness was quickly shoved to the back burner. There were lengthy debriefings for the entire group, not to mention autopsies to complete on the crew of the _Venezia_. Neither Woody nor Jordan had slept much in the last 48 hours, so when the last report had finally been filed, Woody was pleasantly surprised when Jordan asked him back to her place and even more so when they ended up kissing on the couch.

"Jordan, I have to confess, I have sort of been waiting for the other shoe to drop," Woody said, wiping away the last tear from the side of her nose. "These last three days have been pretty crazy and I didn't know if what you said on the mountain…I mean, if you still felt…"

Jordan cut him off with a long, wet kiss. When she stopped kissing him, she took his face in her hands and said, "Watch carefully."

She stood up from her seat on the couch and very deliberately bent down and pulled off her high-heeled shoes. Then she stood up again and dropped them, one by one, onto the hard wood floor.

"There. The other shoe has officially been dropped. Now, where were we?" Jordan purred as she took both of Woody's hands and pulled him to his feet.

As he stood, she slid her arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss her and then scooped her into his arms and carried her across the room to the bed. Suddenly, he cracked a mischievous grin.

"Woody, you wouldn't!" Jordan exclaimed, feigning fear.

"C'mon, Jordan. You know me better than that. Of course, I would!" he said, slinging her onto the bed like a sack of mail. She laughed and he took the opportunity to peel off his shirt before climbing onto the bed next to her. Another kiss silenced the laughter.

Jordan lay on her back on the bed looking into Woody's eyes as he lay next to her, propped up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand. For what seemed like a long time, she just looked at him, studying his face, his blue eyes, his trademark dimples. A contented smile slowly spread across her face.

"What?" Woody asked, unable to decipher what had inspired her grin.

"Woody, I love you. I'm sorry I waited until we were up to our butts in snow and plane wreckage to tell you, but that doesn't make it any less true."

"I know, Jordan. But you can't blame me for wondering, especially when you were crying a minute ago."

"I don't know why I did that, and I can't promise it won't happen again, but I'm willing to risk it if you are."

He answered her challenge with a kiss so passionate it took her breath away. She was completely at his mercy and he knew it. She was warm and willing and somehow, as if by magic, totally naked.

On the drive over to her apartment, Woody had promised himself that this evening would be more about romance than sex, but the sight of her bare body was more than he could stand. If there was a record time for stripping off a pair of jeans, Woody bested it by several seconds. There was only one thing left to say.

"Jordan, there's something I have to say to you now, before we go any further. It's something I've never said out loud before. I love you, Jordan. I always have." And, contrary to all that made her who she was, Jordan let him have the last word.

At last, they surrendered themselves to one another, body and soul, holding nothing back. And when they were finished, resting in each other's arms, sweaty and spent, it was Woody who cried.

Jordan may not have known what made her cry earlier, but Woody knew exactly what had brought him to tears. The enormity of it had finally hit him. Their "mating dance," as they called it, was finally concluded – consummated – after nearly four years of maneuvering in and out of each other's lives. He'd known for years that he was in love with her and had tried more than once to move their relationship from "colleagues who find each other hot" to something resembling a committed partnership between two reasonably well-adjusted adults. However, except for a few precious occasions, she had always kept him at arm's length.

He tried not to blame her, tried to understand that her inability to open up to him was not entirely within her control. She'd lost so much, been betrayed by people who should have protected her. Still, it hurt to know that no matter what he said or did, no matter how many times he stuck his neck out or laid his career on the line for her benefit, she rarely dropped her guard. If she did give him a glimpse into her heart, it was only for a moment and then the door would slam shut again, leaving him wondering if he had any idea at all what her feelings for him might be.

Now she was here, giving herself to him without reservation or fear. Jordan loved him, but more than that, she finally trusted him enough to give him her heart to have and to hold.

"Woody? Are you…crying?" Jordan asked, peeking over Woody's shoulder from where she lay spooning against his back.

"No," Woody lied, sniffing and quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. "I just made love to the most gorgeous woman on the planet, why would I be crying?" He rolled over to face her and wrapped his arms around her, flashing her a brilliant smile.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it took more than three years and several near-death experiences for each of us before we finally got to this point?"

"All of which has me wanting to do back handsprings, not start boo-hooing."

"Nobody said you were sad, Casanova, but whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, we both know you were crying. Haven't we already established that tears can be caused by the sudden onset of intense emotions – a gush of feelings that just sort of wells up and spills out? There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Who said I'm ashamed of my feelings? I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but pardon me if I didn't want to appear unmanly in front of my girlfriend."

A long beat of silence passed between them.

"Girlfriend?" Jordan said, raising an eyebrow and almost frowning.

"Nah, you're right. 'Girlfriend' doesn't quite say it, does it?"

"No, but we'll discuss terminology later. Let's get back to the 'appearing unmanly' part."

"Do we have to? Because, I'm feeling pretty manly again, if you know what I mean," Woody said, nuzzling Jordan's neck and leaving a trail of kisses from her collarbone to her earlobe.

Jordan was torn between succumbing to Woody's persistent seduction and fending him off to talk about why he was feeling so vulnerable. Seduction quickly won out, but not before Jordan panted, "This conversation…ooh… isn't over."

"Wanna bet?" Woody teased.

"Mmmhmmm," Jordan moaned as Woody kissed the hollow of her throat. His touch had once again not only rendered her speechless, but also made her forget everything except the urgent need to satisfy the rising desire throbbing through her entire being.

Suddenly Woody let go of her, sat straight up in bed and said, "On second thought, maybe you're right. We should just hash this out right now."

"What?! No! No, I'm not right!" Jordan insisted, pushing Woody over backwards and climbing on top of him. The force behind her kiss told him that conversation was the last thing on her mind. And that was good, because he didn't really feel like talking anymore, either.

The End


End file.
